Friday, October 22, 2010

Mother

My mother goes through these periods where she's pissed off about one thing or another and, for some reason, takes it out on me.  This last time she was yelling at me and giving me the treatment and made the statement 'You posted up on your blog about your neighbors and how they helped you, but didn't say anything about how much I have helped you'.
My mother watches my son Monday through Friday.  Lincoln is dropped off at her house on the way to Amy's work and then picked up on the way home.  For that I'm eternally grateful.
I love my mother...

My mother makes me cry.  I try to share with her how I'm hurting and she turns around and states she's hurting too.  I make every attempt to tell her how something she did hurt me and she turns around and explains that I hurt her too.  She has a tool shed sized memory when it comes to all the things I've done to hurt her, or all the things she's done for me, and when ever I'm having problems she walks into that shed and comes out with some reason or another to demonstrate as little support as possible.  It makes me sad, and tearful, and feel un-valued by the one who gave me life.
I love my mother...

My mother makes me insane.  No matter how many times I'll say something she refuses to get it.  I could say it in 9 different ways, in 10 different languages, or broken down potato head style and she still refuses to get it...
I love my mother...

Originally my mother was supposed to be coming to my house to help me with my activities of daily living.  Helping me get my meals, making quick runs to the store for things I didn't have accessible, calling 911 when I black out, etc.  But because, in my opinion, it made her so uncomfortable to see what my life is she came up with excuses and became more harmful to me than helpful. 
I don't eat through the day except for some snacks that are readily accessible.  I can't cook in the oven because when I open it the hot air hits my leg and causes some excessive burning.  I wasn't going to tell my wife, but the other reason I don't cook in the oven is because I almost fell into it while she was on a trip.  Yes, I was trying to make a pizza and the heat from the oven caught me in such a way that I almost fell in.
I can't drive anywhere as it's extremely dangerous.  I've only driven 4 times since this started in September of 09, and of those 4 times I almost got in accidents 3 times.  Terrible record there...  Ever wanted to have a taco from Taco Bell and can't get there to eat it?  That's the story of my daily life.  I don't watch much TV because the food commercials are unbearable throughout the day.  That statement seems silly and sad, but true.

My son loves his grandmother.  He asks about her when he's at places she normally takes him; looks for her after his naps when he wakes up and she's not around.  I'm glad that they can spend the time together that they do.  She raised me.  I'm proud of who I am.
I love my Mother...

3 comments:

  1. This all sounds so familiar. I don't really speak to my mom, however...

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  2. Great post Kevin. I love my mother, but don't talk to her enough, mostly because we have nothing to talk about. It's cool to hear you appreciate yours!

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  3. The fact that your mom has a "tool shed" full of all the things she has done for you speaks volumes. I keep going back to "expectations". You can't expect people to be the way you want them to be when you need them to be. Only God can put expectations on people. Focus on what you have, not what you don't. The fact that she keeps trying shows how much she loves you. You may never get her to understand fully what you are going through. But you will never understand what she is going through either. She has to accept that her son is disabled and in chronic pain. She has to watch her child suffer daily. I know you are the one in pain, but that doesn't mean everyone isn't affected in some way. There is no right way or wrong way to handle the situation. Your mom isn't the problem, your RSD is.

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